


in one journey around the sun

by haloud



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Sex, Love, M/M, Marking, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: They might regret this—they’ll almost certainly regret this, later, sore and bruised and sticky prodding each other up the ladder, not as young as they used to be—but. Alex came down to the workshop to find him, and there he was, and he smiled so starred and adoring when he turned and saw Alex there, so they threw down the tarp like a picnic blanket in some private hidden corner, like a soft rug in front of the fire, and Alex took him down there in the gilded glow.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 16
Kudos: 141





	in one journey around the sun

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally a tumblr ficlet that got periodically resurrected by a like or reblog, so I edited it and brought over here so it's no longer subject to the whims of the abyss!

“ _Michael._ ”

Alex gasps his name, follows it with teeth, nipping the soft shell of his ear, then nosing down to press his face to Michael’s stubbled cheek, forehead against his temple, close as close can get.

“Michael,” he says again, and every time he says it, Michael gasps in pairs, two shuddery, clenching breaths, in syllables, in perfect time with him, body wet with sweat, face wet too. Alex licks his lips and tastes the salt of him and pants for more.

They might regret this—they’ll almost _certainly_ regret this, later, sore and bruised and sticky prodding each other up the ladder, not as young as they used to be—but. Alex came down to the workshop to find him, and there he was, and he smiled so starred and adoring when he turned and saw Alex there, so they threw down the tarp like a picnic blanket in some private hidden corner, like a soft rug in front of the fire, and Alex took him down there in the gilded glow. He spat in his palm to take them both in hand, but Michael held out his instead and a travel-sized bottle of lube appeared in his hand.

So here they are, the noise of the fans not nearly loud enough to drown out the thundering of their heartbeats, Alex spooned up behind Michael, thrusting into his pliant, pleading body, one hand clutching Michael’s stomach as he twists and flexes back into every stroke, the other resting, cradling the apple of his throat, torn between savoring every squeeze of his pulse and moving that hand up to stuff his mouth, feel the wet and eager curl of his tongue.

“Michael,” he says, the key to unlocking all the other words that get so caught up inside his head. “Fuck, you’re so good, you’re so good—”

Michael cries, jerking into the sensation as Alex finds his angle, stroking over his prostate with every pass, fucking him just the way he deserves. Michael arches back to meet him, back to chest, skin to skin, the smell of rain a heady perfume all around them, lush and life-giving and all _Michael,_ dewing on his skin, misting from his lungs, and Alex drinks it in, dropping kisses all along his shoulders, his neck, every part of him he can reach.

And he can’t stop the words from pouring out, not any more than he could force himself to leave now that he’s had Michael long enough to realize Michael has a smile that’s just for him.

“I love you—fuck, your body, your eyes, your mouth, every goddamn inch—”

“Love you too,” Michael gasps, “Fuck, I love you, so much, everything, _Alex._ Alex—”

“Shh, I know. I’ve got you.”

Michael’s toes curl up against Alex’s calf, twisting in his arms so much that Alex has to hold him tighter, stiller, so he can press the whole of his chest against the whole of Michael’s back, slick with sweat between them. He’s so hot, he burns like fire, and Alex has never felt more _powerful,_ more _vital_ than when Michael is beneath him, above him, around him, beside him, anywhere and everywhere all at once. He stops thrusting just for a moment, the both of them panting and gulping down air, basking in the sensation of their two bodies connected. It’s almost too much, every touch feels like a brand, but Alex wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Like swallowing the fucking sun, that’s what being with you is like, you make me feel like a fucking _god—_ Michael—"

Michael shudders, then, moaning, a ripple running down his spine, making his muscles clench all along Alex’s cock, writhing in his arms until Alex has mercy on him and picks his rhythm up again.

He slides his hand from Michael’s throat down to press hard against his stomach and he drives his hips harder, grinning with his teeth scraping Michael’s jaw when he jerks again and his hand flies down to grip the base of his own cock. Alex adds his own hand on, working him hard and quick until Michael’s fucking his hand to the same rhythm Alex fucks him, until he’s coming with a choking whine, head thrown back onto Alex’s shoulder, gripping tight to Alex’s hip, to his thigh, all the softest parts of him exposed and unafraid and glowing hot and sated.

Alex pulls out to come, so he can spend on the curve of Michael’s spine, the shifting muscles of his back, as he tries to prop himself up with quivering arms and laughs this gorgeous, breathy laugh. He blushes when he meets Alex’s eyes like he always does when Alex runs his mouth during sex, because Michael makes gold and rubies bubble up inside his mouth, and he has to let them out even if it overwhelms them both.

“I love you,” he says again, pulling him back in to spoon against him, nuzzling the back of his neck now, not caring that his own come is getting smeared all in between them now. “I mean it. I love you so much.”

“Hey.”

Michael’s voice is soft and raspy and he takes hold of Alex’s hands so he can kiss each knuckle one by one.

“I love you too. Right now. Always.”

Alex bends to him like a reed, curls around him, tries to wrap him up in as much of his body as he can, and they stay there until they have to go clean themselves off, but they only get as far as undressing for a shower before Michael stops them—and Alex meets Michael’s eyes in the mirror, grinning twin smugness and shyness and satisfaction over the blush of shifting color decorating his upper thigh.

Michael kneels to kiss it, hand wrapped around his thigh in a firm and steady hold, so sure and claiming in such a simple gesture it makes Alex weak. His eyes are big and dark even in the bright bathroom light, and as Alex strokes him he kisses down to his knee, to rest his lips against the metal lattice of his prosthetic, all the way to the foot and up again, to rest his forehead against Alex’s hip. And Alex watches, his vantage perfect for cataloging each and every mark he’s left on Michael, the kissmarks on his shoulders, the fingermarks on his hips, as he closes his eyes and breathes deep and lets all the tension out of himself, giving it all away.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs, and Michael opens his eyes and smiles up at him.

“Hey. Sorry. I just…”

“No apologies.”

“Okay.”

He kisses Alex’s inner thigh next, the part where his fingers couldn’t reach to leave his mark, nipping the sensitive skin lightly between his teeth, until Alex laughs and grabs him harder by the hair to pull him away. The bond between them pulses, love and fondness and joy, and Alex makes him stand so he can bring their smiles together again.


End file.
